


Not All Those Who Wander

by HongKongX



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Adventure, Attempt at Humor, Brody Kirsch - Freeform, Carmilla's past, Danny Lawrence - Freeform, F/F, Gen, Jewish Perry, Papa Hollis - Freeform, and I wrote it!, dork level over 9000, seriously, side character mentions:, some Catmilla, there are jokes in this story I don't even get
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-12 03:19:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3341621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HongKongX/pseuds/HongKongX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heroes and such don't really get a break because this wasn't exactly how Laura wanted to spend her New Years either. The Scooby-Gang have to face many perils before they are greeted by a - hopefully calmer, but probably not - new year. </p>
<p>Or the one in which three dorks and a vampire find themselves in a mountain village in the cursed Styrian Alps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not All Those Who Wander

**Author's Note:**

> I tried incorporating Jewish Perry with some Yiddish phrases because it's important and actually pretty cool. However, I don't speak Yiddish and hope my knowledge of the German language and Google were enough to do her justice. I apologise if they weren't.

This wasn't exactly how Laura wanted to spend her New Years either. 

After the Merry-Christmas-pitchforks-and-gingerbread-débâcle-of-doom all she really wanted was to spend some time in her dad's cosy living room, sprawled in front of the fireplace all while nipping and nibbling away on a hot cup of cocoa and a big slice of Granny Hollis' infamous Apfelstrudel. She would have gone with her gingerbread instead but, yeah, not this year – maybe even never again. 

What she didn't expect was to spend her days after Christmas being buried by an avalanche caused by impressively hospitable alpine Yetis. Well, hospitable until a certain grumpy vampire decided to off their pet ibexes for a quick midnight-snack. They are apparently _'extremely rich on minerals, cupcake'_ which didn't only lead to the Scooby-Gang having to flee the scene mid-breakfast but also to an excruciatingly long lecture by Perry on the rich salt deposits of the Alps. And LaFontaine exploiting a certain meme for her own enjoyment and _'craving'_. 

After Miss Gloomster-Snarkalot finally decided to bust them out of the snow cavern and another few days of merry hiking - a few wolves here and there and dad's bear spray surprisingly being used up - the four of them finally arrived to a slightly more inhabited part of the Styrian hinterland. To Laura's dismay her phone still decided to not have any proper reception. She should really upgrade her 'penetrate-basements-and-underworld-caves-kit' to the 'snow-ception maximum pack'. 

Carmilla however slowly seemed to be getting a better idea of where exactly they were. She announced that in short and sharp snarks, which Laura had normally figured to be way out of character, even for Carmilla. But the cold and sleep-deprivation made her easily overlook the tells. They all were just glad to finally have somebody to lead them to civilisation. 

“Do you know how much longer it will be, Carmilla? At this rate _di kelt_ is certainly going to freeze of my _schnozz._ ”

“Per.” LaFontaine skipped beside her and playfully nudged their shoulders together. “Language.”

Had the cold not already flushed Perry's cheeks they would have certainly lit up then and there from her sudden slip into the familiar tongue. To her defence, had things gone _normally_ she _would_ be using it extensively during this time of the year anyway. Especially while cooking with her _bobele._   
She nudged LaFontaine right back and shushed them with a playful _'Oh, sha shtil!'_

Carmilla rolled her eyes at the ginger-twins with such force she was certain something tore. Or at least she made herself believe that was the only reason her eyes stung. 

“Soon”, she grumbled. 

It took another hour and at least six times of Laura toppling over face first into deep snow until they reached a mountain road fairly cleared of snow. An old man on a sleigh came by, dragging some hay up to his village, and after some convincing (mainly from Laura) he agreed on letting them ride along. It would have almost been romantic hadn't LaFontaine and Erich started to animatedly discuss horse breeding methods and whether Mendelian genetics were able to hold the candle to _'good old fashioned farmers' know-how'_. It also didn't help much that Carmilla was deliberately lying with her back towards Laura, seeming to enjoy the view. Well, if grumpy-pants wanted to play it like that Laura certainly wouldn't want to spoil her fun. She looked forward to the warm bed Erich promised was waiting for them in the village's inn. And how she would be sleeping in it alone tonight. Two could play this game.   
____________________________________________

The inn was small and the rooms were even smaller. They didn't really expect much from a 120-strong village's coaching inn, which by the way was run by a charming old lady who was easily as old as Carmilla. It just didn't really leave Laura much of a choice in executing her pointedly-ignore-grouchy-girlfriend-plan. They were practically sitting on top of each other. Good old Grete however did manage to organise two twin rooms so at least Laura would be able to enjoy the comfort of a single bed. 

“We're going out replenishing our supplies, alright?” Lafontaine popped their head into Laura and Carmilla's room after giving the door a firm knock. That was a first, but Laura figured things would change now that the possibility of a giant black cat pouncing at any intruder storming in without advance notice increased significantly. As well as the chance of marching in on not necessarily PG-13 activities. Also, Perry was very insistent on reintroducing _'basic dorm etiquette'_ as soon as things ebbed down at Silas, with LaFontaine being one of the major perpetrators who _'was in direst need of a proper re-education'_. Perry might as well have started implementing her lessons already.  
“Figured we still have some more mountains to climb before finally returning into the safe arms of urban civilisation. And wireless internet reception.”

“I think there are more immediate things we should be worrying about than whether or not you will be able to update your Twitter account, Susan.” 

“Susan. Really?” Perry rolled her eyes, apologetically though, and mouthed a silent _'tut mir leyd'_. „But you're right. Right now it's getting some food. Never would have believed anybody if they had told me that living off pine-cones and soggy trail-mix apparently is sufficient enough of a diet to get you through a month lasting alpine winter hike. And I'm the bio major.”

“Well, we did eat that alarming amount of gingerbread for Christmas. And that Yeti goulash was actually really delicious.”

“Yeah, wouldn't have believed that hairy cavemen apparently know how to brew up some insanely gourmet stew either”

“I think they wouldn't appreciate you calling them _hairy cavemen_ , LaFontaine. They were really nice. And well behaved.”

“Per, I don't think they would appreciate seeing our faces ever again after what Princess Troublemaker over there did to their pets.” They snickered devilishly. “But I get it. She just really _craved that-_ ”

“Didn't you want to go fetch us some food, Chewie?”, Carmilla interjected. “Or did our exploring Hoth freeze off those last few remaining cells swimming around that oafish excuse of a brain.”

They all turned around to stare at Carmilla, who herself was pointedly staring out of the window. She had decided to remain silent ever since they boarded Erich's sleigh. Of course the first things coming out of her mouth would be insults, what else. 

“What's with all the ginger hate today, vampire lady. Cat apparently hasn't got her own tongue.”

At that Carmilla jumped up from her armchair and hissed loudly. She was baring her fangs and piercing LaFontaine with gold slitted eyes. Laura immediately jumped between her girlfriend and them, raising her arms in front of her body. Carmilla, however, decided to ignore her attempts at gently cooing for the vampire's attention and kept the glare firmly locked on the walking-talking nincompoop behind her.

“Alright everybody. I think- Grete said the shops would be closing soon so- We really should be going. LaFontaine?!”

Perry tugged at their jacket sleeve prompting them to turn their head but not to break eye-contact with ferocious Catmilla. If they were being completely honest they would have pooped their pants at the intensity of the moment, but knowing that Laura was standing between them and the probably famished bloodsucker gave an odd sort of reassurance. At least she wouldn't end up as a vampire's late lunch today. It wasn't until Carmilla's feature slowly turned human again that they blinked at Perry who was holding onto their right arm for dear life.

“Sure. Let's go.” They both turned but stopped again in the door frame. “Oh and Laura, I asked Grete about the telephone earlier but she said a snowstorm cut off all the landlines a few days ago. What are the odds.”

Laura was still looking at Carmilla who had already returned to her armchair and to staring out at the near mountains. A little reluctant she turned towards her friend.

“Seriously? Every last landline?”

“Was a wicked snowstorm apparently.”

“What is it with these mountains and phone reception?! Yep, that's it. My dad has positively died of multiple heart attacks by now.” 

Laura slumped down onto the corner of her bed. She had hoped to at least be able to call him for New Years Eve. She really missed his voice and his face and even how he insisted on her wearing a safety helmet when they went to see the fireworks at the town square, because _'what goes up comes down again honey, and your fontanelle never properly healed up so go get that helmet! Don't talk back to me Missy!'_ Even though his fear of literally the sky falling down on their heads reminded her of old French comic Gauls and magic potions, and his need to keep her safe from every little thing in the world was completely ridiculous and utterly invasive, right now all Laura could do was find it endearing. And miss it. Miss him.

Suddenly she thought of Danny too. She wondered if her tall TA was doing alright fending off the evils at Silas with the rest of the Summer Society girls. Most of the Zetas had happily volunteered and surprisingly even some Alchemy Club members. That probably had more to do with the _'Lovecraftian energies'_ that floated around campus since the twilight, but well. Nevertheless all of them had insisted that the other students save themselves and go home over the holidays but Laura still felt guilty for leaving her friends behind. _'Don't sweat it, little hottie. Angler-demon doesn't stand a chance against the joined forces of Zeta-Society'_. Danny didn't really agree with the name but there were more important battles to fight. 

“Are you going to be okay?”

Laura looked up at her friends who were still standing in the doorway. LaFontaine had meant her comment to sound natural and still as part of their conversation but shot a short glance towards the window, mainly to the armchair in front of it. Laura sighed and nodded.

“Yeah. I' just hope the next village we get to has got the memo that we already live in the 21st century.”

“Oh sweetie, I'm sure they will.” Perry tugged at LaFontaine's arm again. “Well, we better be going now. Grete told me there will be a big feast tonight so you all rest up and we'll come again later to pick you up.” 

“I can't wait to see what's for dinner.” They chuckled and joked _'I hope it's not us'_ before both of them left and closed the door behind them. Laura could still hear Perry scolding LaFontaine as they walked down the corridor, calling them _'shlemiel'_ and _'completely meshugge'_. She smiled.

“Gods, I thought they would never leave.”

And she smiled no more. Even though Laura knew how exasperating Carmilla could be – months of being her roommate and such – her level of snark and disdain towards every moving creature the last few days just pushed all her buttons at once. Also how dare her using her shifting powers to threaten their friends! To hell with playing it cool.

“Seriously, what's bitten you?”

Carmilla turned around with perfectly arched eyebrows, contemplating if Laura listened to what she had just said. 

“A vampire. 300-something years ago.”

Laura grunted. “You know what I mean.”

“Well then you have to be a little more specific, cupcake.” 

“You've been behaving like a condescending jerk-face for the longest time! I mean, more than you usually do. What's gotten into you?”

“Why sorry I'm ruining your New Years spirit. Seems it's becoming tradition.” She turned to face the window again. “Also I didn't know a girl had to ask permission to wallow in her mental pain and suffering of being trapped with Tweedledee and Tweedledum. I can literally feel my braincells dying one by one.” 

“You're impossible, you know that.”

“Trying my best every day.” 

Carmilla's plastered fake smile just did it for Laura. She stood up and marched over to the armchair, leaning down and glaring out of the window. Carmilla turned to look at her with a scrunched up face while scooting away slightly. Positioned like this the vampire was effectively trapped between the window and a wall. And Laura.

“Invasive much.”

“Oh shut up! You don't understand the concept of personal space so don't you dare lecture me.” The smaller girl squinted her eyes but saw nothing but trees and snow. “What the heck is so special about that mountain anyway? You've been staring at it ever since we got to town.”

Carmilla stayed silent and even though Laura couldn't put a finger on it, it was way more silent than just not answering the question. She got like that sometimes. Mainly when talking about her past – or not talking about it, that is. Carmilla however suddenly found a lot of interest in the windowsill.

“Nothing. Just old rocks.”

Obliviousness may be one of Laura's defining character traits but even she could pick up that there was certainly something more than just _'old rocks'_ up there. And definitively not _'nothing'_ This time around, however, she didn't want to elicit obviously personal information for the sake of investigative journalism. She wanted to understand what made her girlfriend tick. Try to get a better grasp of an immortals concept of time and how memories haunted those who could never forget. If she could even understand it at all.

“Carm, I-”

“Get up.”

“Wha-”

Before Laura knew what was going on Carmilla was firmly standing up, her shoulder digging into Laura's abdomen while an arm slithered around her waist. In a jif her feet disconnected from the ground, making her feel heady from the sudden change in altitude. She gawked, mouth wide open with an incredulous squeal escaping her. The last time somebody carried her on their shoulders was when she was 10 – uncle Markus being silly and playing potato sack with her. However, the thing was that uncle Marcus was a military man, glorious two meters tall and a complete fool for pulling crap like that on unsuspecting little girls. Carmilla was neither of those. And Laura wasn't 10.

“What the heck?! Carmilla?!”

“Shh. Don't fight it, cupcake.”

“Oh my god, put me down! Right now!”

She did. With a soft thud Laura landed on her own bed after her infuriating superhuman girlfriend decided to throw her right onto it. Dirty blonde hair a total mess and completely covering her face Laura huffed a few strands out of the way. Still disoriented she scrambled onto her elbows and blinked violently. The first thing she saw was a vampire standing in front of her, blood-red scarf around her neck and black leathered hands rubbing together in apparent satisfaction about her work. She also stood there in a jacket. 

“Where do you think you're going?!”

She looked up from her zipper after closing it, a smug smile on her face. “Well, as much as I'm looking forward to the feast thrown in our honour, sweetheart, I do have to feed on something different than smoked sausage and a select variety of cheeses and breads.” Her eyes wandered along Laura's body. “Even though what's served up right in front of me is looking _positively delicious._ ”

She would never get it, Laura decided. How that useless idiot in front of her went from hot to cold in mere seconds, disregarding all damage she did on the way. How she irked Laura in so many ways, most of them not positive at all but those few that were outweighing the others with ease. And how Laura said nothing and just watched her leave the room in a soft stride with eyes transfixed on places she shouldn't be looking at in broad daylight. She gave up and threw her head into the pillows, groaning in frustration.  
____________________________________________

It started getting dark early in the winter. Even though Carmilla had only been out for about an hour now, Laura started to worry. It wasn't really the fact that she worried for her girlfriend's safety – she was perfectly capable of keeping out of trouble she couldn't manage – but moreso that after Carmilla had left, Laura eventually looked out of he window again and started figuring out that the vampire may not have gone out for feeding purposes only. 

It also didn't help much that Perry and LaFontaine were still out gathering supplies which left Laura alone with her enquiring mind. She had never been known for her ability to sit still and wait. Hence her enrolment in investigative journalism. So she decided to take matters into her own hands. 

Her first lead was of course the mountain her girlfriend had studiously been watching the whole day. It was another matter entirely to get up there. There would still be light for another hour or so, so she started flitting around the village questioning townspeople. At first she felt bad for interrupting them multiple times while they were all very busy setting things up for the feast. Laura felt a little embarrassed that they were going to throw such a big party for _'them silly city folk'_. From what she could gather it really was going to be a grand spectacle: Four human-sized grills attached to the huge bonfire in the centre of town and various cauldrons standing around it with old ladies like Grete animatedly mixing up smoking liquids. Apparently it was rather fun because all of them cackled away while doing so. 

The answers she got from the people however were rather unsatisfying. Things like _'That cursed mountain? Stay away from that hellhole!_ ' or _'Those who wander shall never be seen again!'_ mixed with various screams and sounds of discontent to genuine terror. 

She was just about to blow all caution into the wind and simply trudge up the rocks when she saw Erich who was hurriedly packing things into his satchel and preparing his steed and sleigh.

“Aren't you staying for the feast, Erich? Everybody's already all buzzed up from what I can tell.” He turned around with wide eyes and sweat on his forehead. Laura was a bit puzzled by his reaction but figured she had just startled him. 

“Oh, yes, er, Lauren, wasn't it?”

“Laura.”

“Yes, Laura.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and started padding his temple. “Well, you see, I just brought up a” He took in a shaky breath his eyes darting around. “ _A delivery._ Yes. I'm not from this village so I was just about to head out. Wife and daughter waiting.” 

“Oh, really? I didn't know.” She suddenly became a bit wistful at the thought of family. “Well then, I hope you make it back in time. They must be worried.”

The aged man pocketed his kerchief seeming to have noticed her sudden change of emotion. He smiled sorely, if that could be told from the movements of his beard. He knew that look too well; the eyes of somebody who wasn't as lucky as him. Who wouldn't be able to return to the safety of home in time. And who never would again. He shook off the thought. 

“I'm really sorry, my girl. You seem very-,” Looking for another word he chose to stick with what he intended to say. “Bright. Genuine.” His eyes searched for something in Laura's. 

“You and your friends don't deserve this.”

“Hah, well I don't think anybody deserves being snowed in for New Years far away from their families. However, it does get you away from that unpleasant conversation with your one sexist relative.”

“No, I-” He paused. Again. 

This man really made the simplest conversations dramatic. 

“Okay, well, on another note. You wouldn't happen to know how I can get up that mountain?”

He looked into the direction of Laura's thumb thrown over her shoulder. His brows furrowed at the sight.

“What do you want up there? You know it's said to be-”

“Cursed. I know. The townspeople mentioned that once or twice. But none of them could tell me if there was a safe way to get up there. And I figured, you as an experienced traveller would be kind enough to lend a fellow explorer a hand. Trade's honour and such.”

The look he gave Laura wasn't one of agreement, regarding _anything_ she had just said. But on the other hand the old man did seem to contemplate giving her the directions. It would start getting dark soon and the preparations for the feast would last for another few hours. His sigh was heavier than both of them expected.

“Well, what else do you have to loose.”  
____________________________________________

In addition to an actual explanation of the curse – apparently the mountain wasn't so much of a mountain but more of an old and collapsing castle which was said to be haunted by ghosts snatching off maids back in the day, and scaring the living crap out of every kid who dared explore the areas around it since – he did tell Laura of a secret trail through the forest. 

And even though her private eye senses started tingling in the best ways possible as she started following all kinds of animal tracks, a kilometre or so in and a few luces less, she got the torch out of her hurriedly packed backpack with shaking hands. Apparently her late-night library explorations did less for the courage operator in her brain than she had hoped for. 

In the half-darkness of the forest and after the third time she tripped over completely rampant roots Laura wasn't sure she was following the right trail anymore. The tracks became fewer and the path more narrow and seriously, why again did she insist on following her coo-coo-crazy vampire girlfriend, who's mantra was directly taken from a 2008 Katy Perry hit single, and who also was perfectly capable of tearing a grown bear to shreds all by herself, into the dark and potentially dangerous woods?   
She slowly started to understand why her dad didn't want her to fall in love.

“Seriously Carm. Where did you go?”

And as if the universe suddenly decided to not throw every possible stick it could grab right between her legs, an owl swooped right past Laura's face. She yelped and flailed, effectively throwing her torch five meters from her body and landing on not so soft snow butt-first. After the initial shock she threw her arms in the air because: _Yes! Of course that would happen!_

As soon as she scrambled up and dusted off her white bum however, she discovered her torch had landed right beside a trail of very large pawprints. Either Laura wasn't aware of Styrian mountain lions being reintroduced into the wild or a very familiar grumpy cat decided to get her paws wet. She followed the lead and hoped for the latter. 

Somewhere along the way they did eventually shift back to human form. It wasn't long after that Laura arrived at the edge of the forest facing a solid and steep rock wall, now surrounded by the full darkness of the night. At closer inspection there was a clear pattern and Laura let her fingers trace the scars between the child-sized grey bricks. Moving the torchlight along the wall she found she hadn't been the first to do so. All along the stone right above Carmilla's careful steps on the ground Laura found four weak horizontal streaks dragging off the light trail of snow that had settled against it. Her heart clenched suddenly at the uncharacteristic softness of the notion. She walked carefully alongside Carmilla's steps to see where they would take her. 

After following them around a bend Laura could make out a notch in the wall. Focusing the light on it she saw very clearly that it was a wooden door. Mouldered and old and barely holding together at its hinges, which Carmilla for whatever reason had clearly decided to ignore. Laura trotted along and decided that if her badass vampire girlfriend thought there was a better way in she would trust her on that. Only that unlike said badass she didn't have the power to shapeshift into a fricking panther and just jump up the rocks right out of Laura's sight and reach. So she made a quick turn right back to the creepy door. 

As suspected it crumbled to pieces the second Laura even touched it and decided to announce her arrival with a loud thud on the stone ground that bounced from wall to wall right up to the higher floors. So it didn't really matter that a faint _'Oh crap!'_ echoed along with it. As long as the ghosts didn't decide to hear it, that was. 

Armed with a slightly sturdier peace of door the not-at-all-frightened Dora sneaked along the corridors and peeked into every room she passed, just to make sure. Everything was coated in thick layers of dust and from what she could tell she was in the basement walking past a kitchen and some bunk rooms. Give or take the few rats and other rodents flitting around nothing really terrifying was in sight. So up it was. Allons-y?

Laura opened the door at the top of the stairs only to be welcomed with a face full of spiderwebs. Oh, and an actual spider. She violently tried shaking off the facial intruder but Charlotte didn't seem to be very impressed by her and her unceasingly chanting _getitoffgetitoffgetitoff_. The piece of door went flying, as did the torch and after the threat was averted and minus three dexterity went right onto Laura's character sheet, she suddenly realised it was a lot darker than before. After a few solid seconds of getting used to the dark she re-equipped her weapon and found the remaining pieces of what once were her only light source splayed all over the floor. 

Seriously, what was this?! What was her life?! Were there some kind of hidden cameras or unsuspecting gentle viewers lingering in the shadows, because she swore she wasn't usually this inanely incompetent! Well, if there was somebody out there she hoped they had a good laugh or two! With a very heavy sigh she threw her head back and looked to the windows above her. Now she would have to make do with the growing moonlight. 

It was the first moment she actually had time to take everything in. As shady and crumbling as it was, where she stood right now was nothing in comparison to the wet and rat-infested caves she had just left behind. Even though there wasn't much light it bounced off the, what Laura assumed to be marble flooring and illuminated darkly draped walls and columns reaching into the blackness of the roof above. She could make out some golden painted ornaments here and there on the walls and some of the heavy wooden furniture. A silent _'whoa'_ crossed Laura's lips and she wondered how breathtaking it must have looked like in its prime. 

She stepped into the centre of the hall, her boots scratching softly against the floor in rhythmic echoes. There were various doors all of which were to some degree cracked open. Having no idea where to even start looking she just went with the closest to her left which led her to a hallway. 

The rest of the castle was equally impressive. As she did in the basement Laura entered every room make-shift weapon first, and peaked inside to clear the area. However, the quiet beauty and elegance of the rooms made her less wary with each opened door. She came across dining rooms and balconies she had only ever seen in Disney Princess movies and for a split second she wondered if Carmilla really was here or if she had been following the prints of some other shapeshifting wanderer who happened to have been in the area. 

Having gathered enough courage throughout her further exploring Laura found herself on the second floor sooner than expected and was immediately drawn to her right as she felt a gust of fresh cold air slithering up her spine. 

The wind came from a window thrown wide open in the next room. Laura cautiously peered around and crossed the space between to close it, after she had figured it wasn't a ghost that gave her the chills. Just before the shutters connected she noticed strange patterns on the sill. The layer of snow had been freshly flattened, as if somebody had entered the room through it. She turned around and noticed some snow splashed here and there. Tearing open the glass again she threw her head out and felt her heart lift at the sight of pawprints on the rocks. Carmilla had came through here. Her teeth chattered from a new blow of wind and Laura finally closed the window. 

Now she was left with the silence of the room. It wasn't very different from the others she had already seen, so why did Carmilla climb up all the way just to get in here if the passage through the basement was perfectly safe – and required far less of an effort. Superpower capabilities or not, Laura knew that her useless lazy vampire girlfriend would never use them just for the fun of it. 

“What are you looking for?”

Laura channelled her inner Sherlock and took in her surroundings. She followed the snow trail to the bed on the other side of the room. Some of it stuck to the near bedposts. A clear indication that Carmilla had stayed in cat-form until reaching it and then shook everything off in one go. She made a mental note to tease her about that later. 

The dust on the bed was unsettled. Also she found a butt-shaped print on the end of it. From what she could see you had a perfect view of the entire room from that position. But something came particularly into focus: A cheval mirror to the left. From the bed you could see your own reflection. Laura walked over to it. Its silver frame was beautifully decorated with thorn and flower patterns and just like on the walls outside Carmilla had decided to paint all over its face with her fingers. Contrary to pop culture belief she was perfectly able to see herself in them. Though it must be an entire different feeling to always see the same face staring back at you for hundreds of years, no scars or wrinkles ever expressing the passing of time. 

And just as that thought rushed through her mind Laura realised that it wasn't her _own_ that was staring right back at her. She turned around in a swift motion and looked up to the far wall. 

A portrait she hadn't noticed before stood there. Even though the light didn't allow Laura to see more than various shades of grey the features were very distinct. It was a young girl in a simple dress. Wide and pale shoulders gilded with a brilliant necklace. Her raven hair put up in mostly tidy locks, one two rebelliously escaping to complement her neck. A hint of a smile and playful, storytelling eyes. Even not knowing for sure from which age this portrait was her expression wasn't one seen on old paintings much. The Mona Lisa jumped to mind but the comparison would have been too daring. It wasn't really a masterpiece, far from it even. Yet it radiated youthfulness and leaked something intoxicating right into the viewer's veins. So strangely familiar. So familiarly strange. 

“Car-” Laura stopped. No. That wasn't right. 

“Mircalla.”

“Over here.”

Laura whirled around. Nothing. She marched right back through the door and locked around her. Down the hall as if they had magically appeared from thin air two large swing doors stood wide open. She walked straight towards them, fully convinced she would finally find what she had been looking for- Was she allowed to say it felt like centuries? But when she finally arrived all Laura did was stand there in the doorway. If she had to, she wouldn't have been able to explain why. It all just felt strangely surreal.

Carmilla; black clad, long locked, immortal creature of the night Carmilla just sat there, cross-legged and leant back resting on her palms. Looking up at another painting she was only faintly silver dipped from the light falling through the wall-high glass. There was nothing else in the room, making everything gravitate towards her and highlighting the blood-red of a flower in the midst of ruins.

She was beautiful.

She was _Carmilla_.

“Hey.” 

Her head had turned towards the door. 

“Hey.” 

Laura still stood there unmoving. Carmilla ducked her head and let out a small laugh.

“Like what you see?” 

She didn't wait for an answer long and simply padded the area beside of her motioning the other girl to come over. She did. The wooden floor was a bit chillier than she had expected but that thought didn't bother her long. Carmilla had returned to looking up at the painting and Laura followed suit. 

It was a similar portrait to the one before. Only that there were two people in it: A middle-aged man, hair grey with dark streaks even in his moustache. And a fairly younger woman in similar fashion to the girl Laura had just been locking at in the other room. They shared features but weren't entirely the same. Both their glare however had nothing in common to the spark the painted girl had had in her eyes. But that probably could be ascribed to the regal air they had about them. Nevertheless, Laura _had_ seen that harsh look on a very familiar face. 

“Are those your-” She didn't continue.

“I think so.”

Laura looked over at her girlfriend with questioning eyes. She shrugged and looked at the floor.

“It was made after I died.”

And somehow the intensity of the words had never hit Laura until this moment. Being undead always had this notion of simply having the blessing or curse of not having to die, period. But somehow it never occurred to Laura that you actually did have to die to become _un_ dead, and that you were formed into something completely new in the process. Reborn if you might want to put it like that. But now, after not merely hearing but actually seeing first hand that Carmilla hadn't always been Carmilla-

Was that why she insisted she was 334 years old? If she was asked, which date would she say her birthday was?

“But that doesn't really matter, I guess.” Carmilla effectively pulled her girlfriend from her train of thought. Her voice was quiet and she decided to draw patterns into the dust between them. “If we hadn't had to flee Silas and end up getting lost in the middle of the god-forsaken Alps, who knows how long it would have been until I had returned here.” 

She stopped and Laura waited. There was clearly more to it. After a while of just watching her girlfriend, Carmilla finished her little painting. A shaky little house, no windows or doors but cold smoke rising from within. She wiped it clean.

“I didn't even recognise them.”

And Laura knows she _doesn't_ understand how that feels. Never will. As much as she had problems remembering how her mother looked or sounded or smelled like, she was a child of another generation entirely. Her dad had always made sure to play family tapes at her birthdays and other lifechanging events. Ever since her first day of school she would hear her mother tell her to _'have fun, darling, never forget to smile'_. Her dad always chocking up tears beside her. He gave her pictures to hang all around her room and entrusted a half-empty perfume bottle to Laura before she left for college. And whenever she needed she could flip open her mobile and look at her mother's face. Carmilla never had this luxury. 

So Laura reached out and covered Carmilla's hand, lingering right above the remaining dust of a crumbling home. The other girl leaned into the touch and Laura bent forward to connect their foreheads. At the feel of skin the dark haired girl let out a shaky breath, air she didn't even need. 

These moments became more frequent and Laura's heart constricted and grew all at the same time and she was sure this couldn't be healthy. But she also couldn't care less. All she focused on was the softness of fingers that had carefully caressed so many things from the past this day that she hoped touching her would anchor Carmilla in the present. 

“Your hands are cold.” The vampire broke the comfortable silence. She brought Laura's hand to her lips and pressed them against cool fingertips. 

“Yeah. If you haven't noticed yet, it's winter.”

The comment elicited a small laugh from the quiet girl that tickled against Laura's fingers. She pulled her hand up and ran it against Carmilla's skin. The older girl let it slide out of her grasp and made her own hand dragged down her girlfriend's forearm, digging her fingers into warm flesh. 

Laura caressed Carmilla's cheekbone softly and moved to push some of her hair behind her ear. She lifted her face to search for the vampire's eyes but found herself suddenly in reversed roles. It never had been Laura insistently staring, waiting for the other girl to catch on and return a loving gaze. Immortality must be a hell of teacher in patients though because Laura found herself pushing her palm softly against Carmilla's jaw after mere seconds of being denied dark orbs. And then she wasn't anymore. 

“Talk to me.” Laura whispered. 

Carmilla kept looking at her and telling so many stories with her eyes, yet her mouth decided on telling another. “Not much to talk about, is there.” 

She pulled her head away and the warm spot on Laura's forehead prickled a bit at the touch of cold air. Carmilla gladly wasn't cruel enough to deny her all kind of physical contact and reconnected their hands, intertwining their fingers and leading them to the floor. She squeezed gently. 

“What's done is done, sweetheart. And I've read enough scripts on philosophy and metaphysics to understand that it's silly clinging to an image your brain puzzled together from what your very faulty human sensory perception deems to be reality.” She throws her free hand into the direction of the painting. “Even this right there is just a manifest of what the artist pictured the Karnsteins to be. Maybe my father's glare scared the living crap out of him. Or he wasn't paid enough to even care and draw them well. Or he _did_ but all in the boundaries of his completely screwed-up own reality.”

She was clearly evading. It didn't matter what logic or science predicted because when it came to Carmilla none of those really mattered. But decades of being an involuntary con artist would do that to the softest of souls. Still Laura wouldn't play along. 

“Carm,” It felt odd on her tongue. “I'm sorry.”

“Not your fault, cupcake.” She was still staring at the painting.

“I know. I'm still sorry.”

No response. They just sat there in long and pointed silence, Carmilla's eyes selfishly never leaving the wall in front of them. And if Laura hadn't been watching her with all the patience of the world she may had missed the breath of a whispered _'thank you'_.

The smaller girl scooted closer, their knees bumping together, their thighs touching, and placed her head on Carmilla's shoulder. Laying their joint hands in her lap she was met with a firm squeeze and a cheek burrowing into her ruffled hair. It was baffling how naturally they melted together and also positively surprising how physical the vampire really was. Maybe it was another misconception of popular culture that draculian creatures cared not for intimacy outside of the bedroom. Laura should have felt guilty that she once was a firm believer of that notion, but she was currently too occupied with being pressed up against her girlfriend. 

Carmilla took a deep breath. “Well, this wasn't how I wanted you to meet my parents.”

And Laura laughed. It was morbid and black but _so_ Carmilla. 

“Wait 'till you meet my dad. I assure you, it's going to be twice the fun.”

“Oh, I'm looking forward to that.”

They both smiled and leaned into each other more. The tension of the moment was gone but a slither of seriousness still remained. Laura seized the moment. 

“But seriously, Carm. We're a couple now. So you better talk to me the next time you decide to go all gung-ho on a self-discovery field trip.” 

The vampire huffed. “Even if it involves my deepest, darkest and utterly mundane past?”

“Especially then.”

Carmilla took that in for all it meant. She didn't dare talk back. Her eyes finally dropped from the painting and if Laura could tell from the corner of her eyes, she almost seemed bashful as she started playing with the dust on the floor again.

“You couldn't reach your dad.”

“What?”

“Your dad. You couldn't reach him because the phones were all dead.” Laura furrowed her brows and lifted her head to look at the other girl. “So, you know. I didn't want to burden you with my... _parent problems._ ”

And of course Carmilla was thinking of her. She always did everything for her. It may have taken an exasperatingly long time but Laura had finally gotten that into that thick head of hers. It still didn't stop her from being amazed time over time again. 

“Carm.”

The word was heavy yet faint and Carmilla looked up at Laura, catching her eyes. They were big and wet and full of emotion. She _lived_ again for those eyes. Laura's mouth was agape and grasping. Words seemed to dance on the tip of her tongue but instead she leaned in and pressed their lips together. It was chaste and sweet and it made _something_ in Carmilla's chest soar. 

It didn't last long and as the other girl leaned back she realised that the blonde's hand was stroking her cheek. And all while keeping their eyes locked Laura whispered: “You know.”

And Carmilla did. 

Their foreheads met again and the words _'You know, too'_ echoed in Laura's ears. 

This was how things were going to be from now on. One day fending of the vampires, the demons and the forces of darkness, only able to breath for a second to enjoy an intimate moment. Maybe another day Laura would have the privilege to sit both of them down and have Carmilla tell her everything about herself. Or maybe she never would. All that really mattered was that they were together.

“Also, sorry I blew up at ginger one today. That was uncalled for.”

Laura smiled. “I don't think I'm the one you should be apologising to.”

“Yeah. That's never gonna happen. And speaking of which, shouldn't they be running through that door any minute now to interrupt our quality bonding time?” 

And even though in the back of her head Laura understood that Carmilla was yet again pulling away, she let it happen. It would take time to peal away layers of snark and sass to uncover what lied beneath. Maybe Laura would be able to meet the remains of the girl in the oil painting then. One day. Because they will have a lot of time for emotional talks and figuring out who they were and are and will be, so Laura didn't do any of that and instead stuck to the game she knew Carmilla was most comfortable playing. After all, love will have its compromises. 

She pulled away in mock offence. “They're not _that_ bad?!”

“Talk for yourself, cupcake. I was cock-blocked one two times too many to go easy on Honey Lemon and the other heroes.”

Laura groaned. “Cock-blocked. Seriously?”

“Find me a feminist-friendly alternative and I'll happily go with it, sweetheart” 

She laughed. But now that she thought about it the others must be worrying about them. It had already been a few hours since Laura embarked on her little dungeon crawling adventure and before her inner eye she saw Perry hyperventilating while LaFontaine, in full Rambo gear, marched around village pressing unsuspecting onlookers against walls trying to coax out every bit of information they could get. Even they could get protective like that sometimes.

As if she had read Laura's mind Carmilla stood up, very excessively highlighting what a chore it was to simply get herself off the ground.

“Alright, how about we leave this sad little ghost town behind and go get some food into you.” She extended her hand. “I can literally smell your blood sugar level dropping by the second.”

At that Laura jumped a little. “Ghosts!”

Carmilla arched an eyebrow. “Come again?”

“Ghost town! This place is haunted! I completely forgot!” She grabbed the vampire's hand.

“Oh, yeah. That would explain why you've been dragging around Pinocchio's rotting corpse.” She pointed at Laura's weapon of choice on the floor. “I think Geppetto wouldn't approve.” 

“How can you stay so calm at this?” 

“You're right, I shouldn't. Vampires can't beat ghosts. It's like a rock-paper-scissors thing.“

“What?!” Laura hastily bent down to arm herself.. 

“Chill Finn. You've clearly not watched enough cartoons recently.” She moved a step closer to Laura and gently placed her hand over the other girl's clenched fist, pulling the musty piece of wood from her and discarding it. “Maybe I'm just not afraid with you right here.”

And Laura's heart skipped a beat. What was this sorcery!? 

“Oh no, don't you get all flirty with me right now becau-”

“Or,” Carmilla interrupted, dragging out the vocal languidly. “This house isn't actually cursed and I just started a rumour centuries ago to keep the local lowlifes from ransacking our summer residence.” She looked around the empty room. “Legend held on but supposedly didn't work as planned. This place is trashed.”

“So we're not-”

“Not in immediate danger of Casper and friends, no.” The little smile she gave Laura was more than enough to trust her word on that. “So, let's get out of here.”

Carmilla started walking, tugging at their joint hands and Laura followed. They walked along the halls in more or less comfortable silence, the smaller girl still looking over her shoulder every now and then to check for paranormal activities. The vampire lovingly rolled her eyes on that. 

As they passed rooms and floors their quiet walk slowly transformed to an impromptu house tour. Carmilla told stories of where she had gotten long faded scars from falling up the stairs or from playing with family weaponry and of balls held in long and fancy halls, of dancing late into the night. 

She also reminded Laura of the attack of the _'giant monster spiders'_ which echoes had apparently reached her long before the dashing heroine did. And she didn't at all mind pointing out how Laura, in proper fashion, had used the servant's entrance. _'Peasants know their place'_ and all that fancy-schmancy aristocratic nonsense. The merits of dating a countess and all. 

After exiting the old Karnstein castle and Laura affectionately stroking her girlfriend's back as she looked up at the remaining ruins, they walked away towards the village. The feast was apparently already in full motion as a big orange light shone over the treetops. To speed up the process of getting back in time Laura ordered her vampire girlfriend to _'Do the thing!'_ for which she received an annoyed roll of her eyes and a half-baked comment about knowing _'an entirely different form of bloodbending, cutie'._ She eventually complied and slithered between Laura's legs just before dashing forward on her paws.   
____________________________________________

They were greeted by two very rattled and lightly singed redheads. In the background an Austrian mountain village merrily stood ablaze. Before they were spotted Carmilla had made sure to have shifted back and affectively dump Laura into the snow, but really, that was secondary. 

_'Hey, remember how I joked about us being the dinner? Yeah, not a joke anymore.'_

_'Did you two just burn an entire village to the ground?!'_

_'Don't mean to spoil the fun but I think they're running at us armed with forks and knifes.'_

_'Are those brooms?! Are they flying on brooms?! Oy gevalt, why does this keep happening to us?!'_

They grabbed what they could salvage and continued their run for the mountains. 

And in the god-forsaken middle of nowhere with a festive fire burning on the far horizon, Carmilla pressed her chest into Laura's back and whispered: “Happy New Year, cupcake.”

____________________________________________

An angry article named _'Cannibalism in the Styrian Alps – What the heck's up with that?!'_ would head Silas campus paper the first day of classes. 

____________________________________________

**Author's Note:**

> This has _absolutely_ nothing to do with the fic but after Carmilla called LaFontaine Honey Lemon I just couldn't stop comparing the rest of the cast to the characters from Big Hero 6. Perry is such a Wasabi, Kirsch obviously a Fred and Laura Hiro but I'm not so sure with the others. Making Danny Baymax and Carmilla Gogo feels so right yet so wrong. Thoughts? 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the story. It didn't let me go for a solid week but now that it's out of my system I hope to return to a normal life.  
> I'm off drinking some tea. Tat for now bitches!


End file.
